I Am a Rock
by PPP SSC
Summary: On the first day, Cody wants to make friends, so he tries to make friends with Noah, who is actively distancing himself from all the other campers. First person, song-fic, Noah-Cody friendship.


I Am a Rock

Author's note: I Am a Rock is performed by Simon & Garfunkel

_A winter's day, in a deep and dark December, I am alone, gazing from my window, to the streets below. I'm a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow. I am a rock. I am an island._

It was the first day. I tried to make a friend. It's not very easy to make friends when you're as dorky and awkward as I am. So I decided not to go for the alleged easy targets, who were befriending all the kids. You see, I understand that the way popularity works for geeks is inversely proportional to how it works for cool kids. What was my first instinct? To head straight for the one guy who wasn't talking to anyone.

"Hi," I said.

He mumbled in reply.

_I've big walls, a fortress deep and mighty, that none may penetrate. I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain. It's laughter and it's loving I disdain. I am a rock. I am an island._

"Uh…" I said, awkwardly, "I'm Cody."

"Noah…" he responded, and then began to act as though he hadn't seen me.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Cody asked.

"Are you… _following _me?" he asked. I sheepishly blushed. After all, I had just been following him, but from the way he asked it sounded, it seemed as though he didn't want anything to do with me. I stopped in my tracks.

He sighed emphatically and walked away. Then he perched himself in a different corner.

_Don't talk of love. Well, I've heard the word before. It's sleeping in my memory; I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died. If I never loved I never would have cried. I am a rock. I am an island._

I looked at his face. He was visibly annoyed. I decided that it would be in my best interest to leave him alone. I decided that I must be an untouchable if even the guy who wasn't talking wouldn't have been helped by my existence. I mean, everyone must want to talk to _someone, _right? I felt ashamed of myself, until something unpredictable happened.

"Hi!" Owen shouted, "I'm Owen!"

"Hi, Owen, I'm Noah," he responded, and his face looked just as annoyed as it had a second ago. "Now, can you please be quiet? I'm trying to read my book."

Owen shrugged and walked away. Then something clicked in my brain. He wasn't annoyed with me for being me; he was annoyed with me for trying to befriend him _at all. _He would have felt the same way about anyone.

_I have my books, and my poetry to protect me. I'm shielded in my armor, hiding in my room, safe within my womb, I touch no one and no one touches me. I am a rock. I am an island._

"Noah," I said, more confident this time, "Why are you afraid of getting close to people?"

He hesitated slightly, "I-I'm not afraid, I'm just pragmatic. I mean, if I get to know people… they turn out to be bigger jerks than I could even imagine, they leave me for other better friends, they hate _me _for being a jerk…"

"Pragmatism, huh?" I asked, "Do you know why I am constantly on the lookout for friends?"

"Because you're a sad, misguided idealist who still thinks other people are worth the time of day?" he said coldly.

"That… may be true…" I began. I noticed his eyes opening fully for the first time. "But… isn't it possible that… you're the one who's wrong?"

He laughed nervously, and then replied, unconvincingly, "I'm… I'm never wrong." He hurried away. I smiled, because I knew, after seeing his eyes, that I _had _affected him—in a good way.

…_And a rock feels no pain… and an island never cries._

I followed after him, and noticed him standing alone, but unlike the last few times, he didn't seem to mind when I started talking to him.

"Hi, Noah," I said. "Listen, I'm sorry that I suggested you might be wrong before. I understand that offended you."

"No, don't worry about it," he responded. "I… well, I mean, not usually, but in at least one case… I was."

My ears perked up to that statement. "Uh… in at least one case?"

"Yes," he responded. He _smiled _at me. This was the first time I'd seen him _really _smiling all day. "No points for guessing which one."

"How… how did I manage to befriend you?" I asked incredulously.

"You… let me make fun of you," he responded. "You didn't mind even _slightly _that I called you a 'sad misguided idealist'."

"Well, I mean, coming from you, that was probably meant as constructive criticism," I answered, and then I started laughing—accidentally.

"Wow, we just met, and you already know me better than ninety percent of the kids at my school," he responded. "Come on, let's do something fun before we have to do any of those atrocious challenges…"

"Alright, so… what do you like doing?" I asked.

"Anything that involves sitting around and brainpower," he responded.

"Really?" I asked, "Me too!"

"You know… I'm glad I decided to give you a chance," he said, still smiling at me.

"I'm glad you did too," I answered.


End file.
